


Red and Red Go On a Road Trip

by sophene



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Bat Brothers, Rated for Jason's Language, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-27 17:45:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16707058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophene/pseuds/sophene
Summary: Jason decides to take Tim with him on a road trip. Tim has no say in the matter.





	Red and Red Go On a Road Trip

The next thing Tim knows, his arms and legs are bound and his face is mushed into carpet. Wherever he is, it’s loud—a car? There’s a roaring noise that sounds like an engine and there’s music. Also, someone is singing.

Tim opens his eyes and looks around. He _is_ in a car. He’s tied up in the back of an SUV. There’s only him and the driver, and a faded duffle bag on the floor next to him. Tim glances down at his own body and is relieved to see that he’s still in his black and red suit. Then he peers up toward the windshield, but the sun is shining through the window, right into his eyes, so he can’t see the driver.

That’s when Tim realizes that the song playing on the radio is A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton. The driver, however, is not quite singing the words.

“—you’re about to get shot, pew pew pew pew pew! That’s the silencer. Boom boom boom boom boom boom! That’s the grenade launcher—”

For a moment Tim can only lay there, mystified, but then his brain at last makes the needed connection between the song and the head of dark hair that he can barely see poking up over the headrest.

“—and now you bleeeed-ing,” the man sings.

_God_ , Tim thinks. Somehow he’s not even surprised.

“Jason!” Tim yells.

“—you know I will shoot you in the eye, just so I can—”

“ _Jason!_ ”

Jason’s song stops abruptly and he twists to throw a glance at Tim over his shoulder.

“Hey, Timmers! You’re awake! Took you long enough.”

For a minute, all Tim can do is peer up at the dark shape that is Jason.

“Jason, what the hell?” he asks.

“Sorry about the kidnapping!” Jason says, and—thank god—turns down A Thousand Miles. “I needed your help on a case, and you know, desperate times and all that.”

A manic laugh bursts out of Tim’s mouth, and he knows he sounds a little hysterical when he says, “So you kidnapped me? Why didn’t you just ask me for help?”

“No time. You would give me all kinds of excuses about college and other cases and Wayne Enterprises and shit, and I needed your help ASAP,” Jason says.

Tim wriggles in his restraints, but they do not give at all. He already knew it was pointless anyway—Jason was trained by Batman. Tim’s not getting out of these ropes by himself.

“Don’t worry, though, I sent Dick a text about two hours or so out of Gotham, so everyone knows you’re safe,” Jason says.

“ _Two hours?_ Where are we?” Tim asks.

“At the moment? Nebraska.”

Tim has been to Nebraska a couple of times during various missions, but it’s never made much of an impression. All he can remember about it is that there’s lots of hills and it smells like cows.

Also, it’s very far away from Gotham.

“Nebraska—Jesus, why? How far away from Gotham are you taking me?” Tim asks.

“Don’t worry about that,” Jason says, waving a hand. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

“Jason, no—”

But Jason turns the volume back up and drowns Tim out. A Thousand Miles is over, but now Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield is playing. Instead of changing the station, Jason turns the volume up even higher. Tim sighs and puts his forehead back down on the carpet. It’s almost like Jason’s trying to kill him. 

* * *

It’s past sunset when they finally stop a couple of hours later. Tim is starving and really has to pee.

Jason climbs into the back with him and lets him out of the restraints. When he’s free, Tim peeks up over the seats and spots the diner through the window. He’s never been so glad to see a restaurant in his life.

There’s one massive problem though.

“I don’t suppose you brought any of my clothes?” Tim asks, gesturing at his Red Robin suit.

“Nope,” Jason says. “You’ll have to borrow some of mine.”

He pulls the duffle bag over and unzips it. Tim is alarmed but not surprised to find out that it is mostly full of weapons.

“What the hell,” Tim says, lifting up a machete.

“Just in case,” Jason says, taking the machete from him and sticking it back in the bag.

He rifles around a bit and then tosses some clothes at Tim. A black shirt, a forest green sweater, brown boots. And pants.

“You’re kidding, right?” Tim asks, holding up the pants.

“Your scrawny butt isn’t going to fit in my other pants and I don’t have an extra belt. These have a drawstring though,” Jason says, tugging on it.

And that’s how Tim winds up in some diner in middle-of-nowhere Nebraska wearing Jason’s Wonder Woman pajama pants.

The diner’s other patrons shoot Tim curious looks as they enter, but all Tim can focus on is finding the bathroom. He heads straight for it while Jason goes to find a table. When he’s done, he comes out and spots Jason in a secluded corner booth across the restaurant. He passes by a table full of giggling teenagers on his way there and can only hope that people out here in the middle of nowhere don’t know or care who the Waynes are. He’s not in the mood to end up a meme. Again.

“Alright, asshole,” Tim says as he slides into the booth across from Jason. “What the hell is this all about?”

“Shhh,” Jason says, and puts on a blinding smile, which he directs up at the waitress who has come over to take their order. “Hello!”

“Welcome,” she says, shooting a wary glance between the two of them. “What will you boys be having?”

“Coffee,” Tim says immediately.

“Two coffees, and a water for me, please. And I’ll be having the hamburger with onion rings. Alvin?”

Tim shoots Jason a dirty look and picks up the menu. He chooses the first thing he sees—chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes—and the waitress leaves to go put in their order.

“Alright,” Jason says when she’s gone, rubbing his hands together as he looks around the diner. “This is quaint.”

“Where is my phone?” Tim asks.

“Don’t worry, Princess, I’ve got it safe right here in my pocky,” Jason says. He pulls it out of his jacket pocket and slides it across the table. Tim presses the home button, but it stays dark. The battery’s dead.

“Wow, and it’s dead,” Tim says, putting it facedown on the table. “Why am I not surprised?”

“In my defense, the battery was at 12% when I found you, so I would say this is mostly your fault,” Jason says.

“How is this mostly my fault?” Tim says, gesturing around at the brightly lit diner.

The waitress returns with their coffees and Jason’s water. For a minute, Tim can only focus on the coffee and getting into his system. He feels like he was hit by a truck and the caffeine will help him be angry in a more productive way.

Tim winces as he takes a sip, and pours in more sugar. The stuff is scalding hot and tastes like dishwater, but it’s better than nothing.

“God,” Jason says, making a face after he tries a sip. He pushes the coffee cup away and says, “And I thought Gotham’s coffee was bad.”

“You are going to explain what the hell is going on,” Tim says, pouring another cream packet into his mug.

“Absolutely. I would love to explain what’s going on,” Jason says.

Tim drinks more of his coffee and waits, but Jason simply clasps his hands on the table in front of him and says nothing. Daughter of Darkness by Tom Jones is playing on the diner’s radio. Tim narrows his eyes. Jason hums along with the song.

“Alright,” Tim says, and puts the mug down. “Let’s start with the basics. What day is it?”

“November 23rd,” Jason says.

“Great, so I missed Thanksgiving,” Tim says. The last thing he remembers before waking up in the back of Jason’s car is being out on patrol. It was early Thursday morning then.

“Missing family Thanksgiving, what a tragedy,” Jason says.

The waitress returns with their food, so Tim can’t acknowledge the sarcasm.

“Hope the food is better than the coffee,” Jason says when she’s gone again.

It isn’t, Tim discovers, but it’s been nearly a whole day since he last ate, so he finds that he doesn’t care. The look on Jason’s face as he crams mashed potatoes into his mouth is disgusted, but Tim ignores him.

He doesn’t stop eating until he’s feeling a little sick. Then he pushes the plate away and leans back against the padded seat.

“I can’t believe you actually ate all of that,” Jason says. He only managed to get down half of his burger and a quarter of the onion rings. Tim steals a couple and can understand why—they’re cold and soggy.

“Alright. You. Talk,” Tim says. “This had better be good.”

Jason shrugs and says, “well, the thing is, I’m looking for a guy. He’s done some bad shit, Tim.”

Tim crosses his arms over his stomach and raises an eyebrow.

“It’s easier if I just show you the case file, but I can’t do that in here.”

“Alright, fine. Let’s go somewhere where you can show me the case file then,” Tim says, and slides out of the booth. “You’re paying for dinner. You know, since I don’t have my wallet.” Then he walks back outside to wait by the car.

Forty-five minutes later, Tim is wearing a brand new pair of jeans from the nearest Walmart and Jason is unlocking their room at the motel. Jason pushes open the door and flips on the light, revealing the room’s dingy orange and tan glory.

“Oh no, there’s only one bed,” Jason says with mock concern.

Since Tim was downstairs at the reception desk when Jason asked for a room with one bed, he just sighs and pushes past him into the room.

Jason goes to get their other bags out of the car while Tim sets up Jason’s laptop on the motel room’s little table. Jason comes back and changes into his pajamas—the same Wonder Woman pants that Tim wore to the diner—and Tim finds a place to plug in his phone. He desperately wants to shower, but more than that Tim wants answers.

“Show me,” he commands.

“Sure thing, baby bird,” Jason says, he plops down in the single chair and finds the file. He clicks on it and the first thing that pops up is a photo of an unsmiling Caucasian man. He's pale and weedy, is wearing large glasses with shiny wire frames, and has longish brown hair.

It doesn’t take Jason long to explain. He’s on the trail of the man in the photo, who is named Travis Reardon. Reardon was a med student at Ivy University and Jason has linked him to a series of disturbing deaths. Since some odd traces of chemicals are involved, it’s likely he’s some kind of Scarecrow devotee. Unfortunately, the guy is smart, and after Jason’s third failed attempt to catch him, he skipped town. That’s why he and Jason are currently driving through Nebraska.

“I remember this case,” Tim says. “It popped up on B’s radar back in August after those first three bodies were discovered. I was going to get involved in the investigation until you said—”

“That it was Crime Alley business and Batman needed to keep his birds and his pointy ears out of it,” Jason finishes for him.

“Yes, exactly. And none of this explains why you’ve kidnapped me,” Tim says.

“Why the fuck do you think?” Jason asks. “The little freak is too smart for me. It’s like he knows I’m coming and he sets these little traps so he can get away.”

“So, you need my help,” Tim translates.

Jason gets up and slaps a hand on Tim’s shoulder, hard.

“I admit I was wrong when I told B to back off. Thanks so much for agreeing to come along.”

Tim glares up at him. He does not remind Jason that he was abducted, however, and instead says, “I haven’t said I’ll help you.”

“Yeah, but you’re going to,” Jason says. “You love chasing after the smart ones, admit it.”

Tim finds that he can’t lie. He wanted to get his hands on this case months ago, after the first bodies showed up. That Jason is dangling it in front of him now is almost enough to make him forget that Jason drugged him and tied him up in the back of his car.

“Fine, I’ll look at the case,” Tim says. Jason grins, so Tim glares at him and adds, “but I might call Kon tomorrow and have him come pick me up. It wouldn’t take him long to get here. Nebraska isn’t that far away for a guy who can fly.”

Jason frowns and makes a dismissive noise that is oddly reminiscent of Damian.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Tim asks.

“Wyoming,” Jason tells him.

“Ok. Why?”

“One of his prep school friends has a vacation house up north. Travis used to go there with him when they were younger, over the holidays and whatnot,” Jason says.

“Why do you think Travis would pick there, of all places?”

Jason shrugs and says, “Intuition.”

“So you have a tiny shred of a lead,” Tim says. “Great.”

“Hey, it’s not a tiny shred. The gory details are all in the file.” Jason waves a hand at the laptop. “Knock yourself out.”

So Tim gets on Jason’s laptop and starts going through the rest of the case file. Jason brushes his teeth and settles on the bed with a copy of _The Fifth Season_ from Gotham Public Library. Tim wants to be annoyed about this, but since there is only one laptop, it’s not like Jason can do any work.

The hours slip by without Tim noticing, which is what tends to happen when he’s digging into a case. Somehow it’s 4 a.m. all of the sudden, and Jason is asleep with his head propped up on the headboard. There’s a little wheezing sound coming out of his mouth that would be endearing if he was literally anyone other than Jason. Tim has just enough energy left to take a quick shower and put on his new Superman flannel pants, then he pushes Jason over to one side of the bed and falls asleep. 

* * *

 Tim wakes up in the morning to the sun streaming in through the cracks in the blinds and Jason breathing in his face.

“God,” Tim says, wincing as he gets up. Jason’s morning breath is rancid. He groans and rolls out of the bed.

The mattress shifts, and Jason sits up too.

“Morning, Timberlake,” he says.

“Next time, two beds,” Tim says.

“Huh?”

“Coffee,” Tim says.

“Huh?”

“Coffee,” Tim says again. “Find coffee.”

“Right,” Jason says.

Tim gets dressed and finally looks at his texts while Jason is in the shower. He has concerned texts and voicemails from B, Dick, Kon, Steph, Cass, even Damian. He sends a group text to all of the Bats letting them know he’s fine, then messages Kon to warn him that he may need help with an escape.

About thirty minutes later they’re back in Jason’s car and merging onto the highway. Tim has a large coffee from the town’s only coffee shop, and Jason has a much smaller cup of tea. Tim is still wearing Jason’s green sweater since his only other option was the white and pink Hello Kitty sweatshirt that Jason bought him last night at the Walmart.

“You’re sharing some of the driving today,” Jason says. “I’m sick of driving.”

“I think it’s interesting how you keep talking like I wanted to come on this trip in the first place. It’s almost as if you have a pathological inability to take responsibility for your behavior.”

“Do you bitch this much around Bruce? How does he stand it?” Jason asks.

Tim ignores him and continues researching Travis Reardon.

They don’t stop until they reach a small town called Gothenberg. While Jason is filling up the tank, Tim spots a coffee shop across the street.

“Give me some cash,” Tim says, holding out his hand.

“Why?” Jason asks.

Tim points at the coffee shop and Jason snorts. He does get out his wallet and give Tim the money though.

“Addict,” Jason yells as Tim walks across the street, and Tim flips him off.

Tim gets some more pointed glances in the coffee shop. He’s added a pair of Jason’s douchey sunglasses to his look, but he keeps the shades on—he’s still wary about ending up on the internet somehow. When Tim reemerges with his coffee, he finds the car parked in front of the shop, but no Jason. He circles the car and says, “Jason?”

He’s not there.

“Jason!” he yells.

It is then that Tim sees the red barn across the parking lot. The words Sod House Museum are painted over the entrance. Following a hunch, Tim crosses the lot and goes over to it.

He is not surprised at all to find Jason inside the sod house behind the museum, ducking so as not to bang his head into the low ceiling.

“What are you doing?” Tim asks.

“Looking around,” Jason says.

There is no one else in the house, so Tim says, “You do realize this is a case, right? Not a vacation?”

“I don’t see why it can’t be both,” Jason says.

“Ok, well, can we get going please? I would like to get back to Gotham before my Spanish final.”

“Fine,” Jason says, and mutters, “killjoy.”

They get back and the car and continue toward Wyoming. 

* * *

Eventually they leave the main highway and drive so far out into the country that they can’t find a good radio station. Jason, unlike Tim, is apparently incapable of riding in the car without listening to something.

“Could you just—Jay, turn it off!” Tim says, smacking Jason’s hand as Jason tries to jab at the scan buttons.

“There has to be at least one radio station out here,” Jason says over the static.

“Apparently there isn’t, so just turn it off,” Tim says.

But Jason hits the scan button a couple more times until finally, something warbly crackles over the radio. The signal is weak, but it’s something. _Better than static_ , Tim thinks, and lets it play.

_—you want to go_  
_To that gospel feast_  
_That promised land_  
_Where all is peace_

_Walk into heaven_  
_And take my seat_  
_And cast my crown_  
_At Jesus’s feet—_

The verses repeat for another couple of minutes, occasionally whiting out into static. The music sounds far away, like it’s traveling to them from some ghostly plane. Outside, the sun has set. There’s no other cars on the road, no signs of human habitation. It seems to take forever for the song to end, and another tinny hymn begins immediately after.

They listen to this station for about ten minutes. There’s no DJ. The hymns just continue, one after the other, each one more haunting than the last.

Finally Jason asks, “Did we die?”

Tim hits the button and the music turns off.

“Maybe you should consider Spotify,” Tim suggests.

“Do I look like I can afford Spotify? Check your privilege, Timothy.”

Tim rolls his eyes and focuses on the road.

They pass a house about thirty minutes later, and Tim is more relieved than he will ever admit to anyone, ever. 

* * *

Somehow they make it to Wyoming without killing anyone or each other. Since Jason was adamant about stopping at every tourist trap in Nebraska, Tim considers this a success.

They stop in another small town for the night, but don’t get food at a diner this time. The closer they get to Travis Reardon, the more Jason insists on keeping a low profile. They go through a drive thru instead and get hamburgers, and eat on the way to the hotel.

Tim insists on getting a room with two beds at the hotel and wins the argument. They’re depressingly boring up in their room since they’re both exhausted from traveling all day. Jason eats beef jerky on his bed and scrolls through his phone while Tim keeps going through the Reardon case.

“Hey Tim!” Jason says, talking with his mouth full of jerky. “We have to stop at Devils Tower.”

“Why?” Tim asks.

“It’s a natural wonder.”

“It’s out of the way.”

“It’s not that far out of the way.”

“Shouldn’t we be focusing on finding Travis?” Tim asks.

“The visitor center has a bookstore! I finished _The Fifth Season_ today in the car. I need a new book or I’ll die of boredom,” Jason says.

Tim sighs. He’s done a lot of sighing today. Traveling with Jason is like traveling with a child—a tall, muscular child who has terrible language and a lot of weapons in his duffle bag.

“Stop interrupting me. I’m working on the case,” Tim says.

Jason does shut up and is almost quiet for a little while, except for the fact that he keeps singing Evanescence’s Bring Me to Life under his breath in a terrible falsetto. That this is like, the least annoying Jason has been all day is saying something.

Tim is going through the autopsy reports when Jason says, “Hey, Timbo, look at this.” The mattress squeaks as he leans over to hand Tim his phone.

Tim takes the phone without thinking. He glances at the screen just long enough understand that he’s looking at a picture of the Grinch doing something unspeakable with a woman and then throws it back at Jason. The phone smacks against Jason’s chest and Jason bursts out laughing.

“Jesus, Jason! What the hell?”

Jason laughs like Tim’s disgust is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to him, rolling over and crying into the hotel bedspread.

“God, I really hate you sometimes. I’ll never be able to get that image out of my head.”

“That was the idea,” Jason tells him.

He falls asleep not long after that, thank god. 

* * *

Jason goes out to run some errands the next morning before they check out of the hotel, so Tim takes a quick shower and packs up their bags. When Jason returns and finds Tim wearing the Hello Kitty sweatshirt he cackles.

“I knew you would like it!”

“I couldn’t wear that green sweater again. I think you wore it a few times before you packed it in your bag,” Tim tells him.

Jason smiles and says, “I wouldn’t do something like that.”

Tim doesn’t believe him, but doesn’t waste the breath to say so.

It only takes a few hours to reach the place where Jason thinks Travis Reardon is hiding out. It turns out not to be a town so much as a collection of large houses where rich people vacation. They drive through and just as Tim is getting a feel for the place, Jason makes a u-turn and takes them back out into the country.

“Where are we going?”

“Devils Tower,” Jason says.

“Devils—but what about Travis?” Tim asks.

“It’s daytime,” Jason says, and shrugs.

“Are you serious? We can’t go get Travis now because ‘it’s daytime’?”

“We’re Bats. Bats don’t work during the day. Anyway, I want to get to Devils Tower before the visitor center closes.”

Tim groans and tips his head back against the headrest.

“You could’ve gotten a book from that antique store we stopped at a couple hours ago,” Tim says.

“I didn’t want any of those books. You think I read books by James Patterson? Insulting.”

“Oh my god,” Tim says, and rubs his face with his hands.

“What’s wrong? Need more coffee?”

“No. I want you to shut up.”

Actually, Tim does want more coffee, but he wants Jason to shut up more.

Jason makes him go to Devils Tower. They spend some time outside, walking around and staring up at it. Jason makes eyes at the young woman named Mila who works behind the counter in the visitor center and she’s more than happy to tell them everything they could ever need to know about the landmark.

They go into the visitors center when Mila is done with her history lesson. Jason immediately finds the books and takes his time perusing. Tim leans against a wall and does his best not to act like he’s antsy, but he is. The sun is starting to set. His Red Robin suit is hidden in a secret compartment in the car, and somebody needs to catch Travis Reardon. Jason puts a book back on the shelf, and takes down another. He starts reading the first chapter. Tim realizes he’s bouncing his foot.

“I’m going to go find the bathroom,” Tim tells him.

“Ok,” Jason says, not looking up from the book.

Tim leaves.

When he comes out of the bathroom a couple of minutes later, Jason is no longer looking at the books. Tim wanders around the visitor center looking for him. No Jason.

Tim goes outside and looks around. No Jason.

No car in the parking lot either.

Tim reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and finds that his phone is gone. He pats the pocket of his Hello Kitty sweatshirt, but his phone isn’t tucked in there either.

His heart is starting to pound as he goes back into the visitor center. He returns to the bookshelves and looks around on the floor, retracing his steps. He doesn’t think he dropped his phone, though.

He thinks Jason stole it.

Tim goes to the counter where Mila is definitely not texting behind the register.

“Excuse me,” he says, and she looks up. “You didn’t happen to see where my brother went, did you?”

“Oh, no, sorry,” she says, and shakes her head.

Tim knocks his knuckles on the counter and goes back outside.

For a couple of minutes, all he can do is pace back and forth in the parking lot. Jason wouldn’t really leave him out here, right? But if he just left for a moment, then why would he steal Tim’s phone? Why would he abduct Tim and drive him all the way out to Wyoming only to leave him somewhere right before they were about to achieve their purpose for coming in the first place? Why did Tim ever think it was a good idea to trust Jason for an instant?

When Tim is done pacing, he walks back over to the visitor center only to discover that it’s now closed. He knocks on the window and Mila, looking a little put out, cracks the door open a little to say, “Sorry, we close at four. We’ll be open tomorrow at nine if you want to come back.”

Tim doesn’t know why he nods and thanks her instead of asking if he can use the phone.

Soon, Mila and another employee get in their cars and leave. He doesn’t know if they notice him still sitting in the parking lot and neither stops to ask him if he needs help. Tim tries not to take it personally. He is more than capable of breaking into the visitor center and using one of their phones to call for help, after all. They don’t know that, but still.

After a while, Tim loses track of how much time he spends sitting outside in front of the visitor center. The sun sets, and the temperature plummets. He tucks his hands under his armpits for extra warmth.

His breath is coming out in little puffs and he is thinking through how he is going to break into the visitor center when he finally sees a flash of headlights in the distance.

Tim sits up and waits. The headlights get closer and closer, and at last an old maroon sedan is pulling up in front of the visitor center. A glowing pizza restaurant sign is sitting on the roof.

Tim gets up and walks down to the car.

“Really, asshole?” Tim asks as he climbs into the passenger seat.

Jason is behind the wheel of the sedan. He’s wearing his suit and hood, and the inside of the vehicle smells like pizza.

“I wasn’t sure you were still going to be here when I got back,” Jason says.

“You stole my phone!”

Jason reaches into one of the interior pockets inside his leather jacket and pulls it out. Tim snatches it away from him.

“You are going to explain,” Tim says, pointing at him with it.

“No time,” Jason says. He reaches back behind his seat and grabs something, which he then tosses at Tim. “Put this on.”

It’s a hat. Tim reads the political motto embroidered over the bill and says, “No.”

“It’s just a disguise,” Jason says.

“Did you buy this?”

“I would literally rather die. I stole it.”

“What about the car?” Tim asks.

“Mine. Paid for the pizza too. Had to steal the sign, though,” he says, and reaches up to knock on the roof. “Oh, wear these too.”

Jason reaches into his jacket's other interior pocket and pulls out a pair of glasses with black plastic frames.

“Jason—”

“Chill, kid, it’s all part of the plan.” He shoves the glasses at Tim.

“I wasn’t aware you _had_ a plan. I thought a plan was why I was here.”

“Just put on your disguise, Timmy,” Jason says, and pulls out of the visitor center.

Tim shakes his head. He puts on the glasses and the hat and says, “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

Tim fumes in silence as Jason drives them back to the house where he believes Travis Reardon is hiding out. Before they get back into town, he makes Tim switch places with him.

They’re almost to the house when Jason says, “Stop here.”

Tim brakes. Jason unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the car.

Before he can shut the door, Tim hisses, “Hood! Where are you going?”

“Go up to the house. Pull up out front and ring the doorbell. Act like you’re really there to deliver a pizza and I’ll take care of the rest.”

He shuts the door and disappears into the woods before Tim can protest.

Tim does as he was told—he doesn’t know why. He pulls up in front of the house. It’s mostly dark, but there’s a light on in one of the upstairs windows. He gets out of the car and slams the driver’s side door, not bothering to cover up the fact that he’s there. He pulls the pizza boxes out of the back seat and walks up the path to the front door.

Tim knocks. It is not a shock when no one answers.

He waits for a minute or so and then rings the doorbell a couple of times. Tim taps his foot and hums the last thing he and Jason listened to on terrible small town radio, some horrendous country song about a man giving beer to his horses. He checks the time on his phone, because that seems like the kind of thing an impatient pizza delivery guy would do.

Inside the house, there’s the _tap tap tap_ of feet. Whoever is in there is actually coming to the door. Tim shoves his phone back in his pocket right before the door unlocks and swings open.

Travis Reardon is standing in the entryway, barefoot.

“Hey, I’ve got your pizza,” Tim says, lifting up the boxes.

“I didn’t order any pizza,” Travis says.

Tim shrugs.

“I don’t know, man. This was the address on the order.”

Travis frowns and says, “I haven’t—”

He stops short when something behind Tim catches his attention. His eyes widen and his face drains of color. Tim looks over his shoulder and sees Jason leaning against the sedan, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey there, criminal! Remember me?” Jason asks.

Travis slams the door and Tim hears him run away down the hall.

Tim turns around and says, “Really? This was your plan?”

“It’s hurtful that you doubt me like this, Red,” Jason asks. He stands up straight and starts to walk around the house toward the back.

Tim leaves the pizza on top of the car and follows him.

Tim and Jason come around the corner of the house just in time to see Travis Reardon run out the back door. There's a gentle slope out behind the house, and Travis makes it about halfway down before he steps on the wrong spot in the grass. For a moment the night is bright and loud with the spark and buzz of electricity, and then Travis collapses, his body still spasming.

“I used one of your little traps against you, Travis. Cool, right?” Jason asks. 

Travis says, “I t-told you I’m n-not g-guilty.”

“Sounds fake but ok,” Jason says, and then he’s pulling something metal out of his pocket and sticking it to Travis’s neck. He pulls the trigger and Travis goes limp and quiet.

“What is that?” Tim asks.

“Sedative. Same one I used on you.”

“I’m offended that you used the same drugs on me that you just used on a murderer,” Tim says.

“Whatever gets the job done,” Jason says. Then he nods at Travis and says, “Come on, little birdie. Let’s dump this guy and get the hell out of dodge.”

* * *

Tim is relieved to find out that what Jason meant by “dumping” Travis was dropping him off at the nearest police station.

The nearest police station turns out to be a tiny one-room building with a single officer manning the front desk. When Jason and Tim walk into the station in full Bat gear dragging an unconscious man behind them, the man’s jaw drops.

“Do me a favor and ship this piece of crap back to Gotham for me, will you?” Jason asks. He lets go of Travis’s leg, which flops onto the tile. Jason walks over to the counter and sets a paper copy of the Reardon file next to the officer’s Jackson Hole coffee cup.

“Uh,” the officer says.

Jason puts his hands on his hips and inspects the tiny office.

“I assume there’s a larger station somewhere near here. Call them and have them send over a truck. The sedative I gave Travis here should keep him knocked out for several hours, but it never hurts to be careful. He killed six people, so make sure you don’t lose him!”

With that, Jason turns and walks out of the station. Tim follows, ignoring the officer’s confused, “Hey, uh, wait!”

Tim follows Jason back to the car. They get in and drive off just as the officer runs out of the station. He’s speaking into his radio, but Tim’s not worried about it.

“You’re just going to leave him here? All of this to come get him, and you can’t even go through the trouble to bring him back to Gotham?” Tim asks.

“Let the cops deal with him. Dealing with murderers is supposed to be what they’re here for.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t _deal_ with him.”

“Timmy, you know I’m on my best behavior.”

Tim shakes his head. Then he leans over and grabs one of the pizza boxes off the back seat. The pizza inside the box is cold now, but Tim’s hungry enough that he doesn’t care.

“As soon as we stop, I’m burning that hat,” Tim says, and takes a huge bite out of a slice of pepperoni.

“That's probably for the best,” Jason says.

* * *

The maroon sedan with the pizza sign on the roof isn’t exactly an inconspicuous sight, so they don’t drive for long. When Jason abruptly swerves onto a hidden dirt road, drives for a bit, and pulls up next to a third vehicle—a grey truck—Tim just accepts it and gets out of the sedan to help Jason transfer their stuff from the sedan to the truck.

They change out of their suits and back into their normal clothes before they keep going. Tim doesn’t touch the Hello Kitty sweatshirt this time, and puts on the green sweater again instead.

“We’re going to need some more clothes between here and Gotham,” Tim tells Jason.

“I know. That sweater is starting to get an odor,” Jason says.

Tim gives him a humorless look and puts his—Jason’s—boots back on.

When the shoes are back on, he stands up and faces Jason. Jason is eating a piece of cheese pizza from the other pizza box.

“Alright, Jason,” Tim says. “You owe me an explanation. What the hell happened tonight?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Jason says.

“You played me. You said you needed me to come along because Travis Reardon was too smart for you.”

“That is what I said,” Jason says.

“Travis wasn’t too smart for you. I barely did anything. I wasn’t even in on the plan. You handled him just fine on your own. Why did you abduct me? Why am I here?”

Jason walks over and slaps Tim on the shoulder.

“I had a plan, but I needed a second body. Someone who could lure Travis out, who looks like a weak idiot, you know? You were the first person who came to mind.”

“Wow,” Tim says, dryly. “Thanks.”

“I said _looks_ like a weak idiot, not is a weak idiot. And anyway, if I had to have somebody along for a long road trip, I wanted it to be somebody who I could stand, you know? Can you imagine being stuck in the car for days with Damian?”

“I think you’re full of crap,” Tim says. “I think you drugged and kidnapped me because you knew that if you told me the plan I would have said hell no.”

“You would have absolutely said no, because let’s face it, Timmers, you can be kind of a jackass when it comes to how smart you are. I didn’t need someone to be smart. I needed someone to look like a pizza boy so I could lure a murderer out of his murder house and send him to jail. Frankly, I'm insulted that you were so ready to believe I was too stupid to catch a little turd like Travis on my own.”

Tim finds that he has nothing to say to that.

“Look on the bright side, though,” Jason says, moving breezily past the tense moment. “This is a great day. I got to electrocute Scarecrow Junior and we found out that we make a great team. You’re finally an outlaw!”

“I never said I wanted to be an outlaw,” Tim tells him.

“You didn’t have to say it. I knew.”

Tim closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Alright,” he says, and opens his eyes. “Let’s get out of here. I want to go home.”

“Already? I was thinking we should go see Old Faithful.”

“ _No_.”

“But we’re so close to Yellowstone. Besides, it’s Thanksgiving break. Campus is closed. Don’t tell me you’re in a rush to get back to Gotham for Alfred’s leftover stuffing.”

“I have responsibilities in Gotham.”

“Stop being such a square.”

Tim groans up at the uncaring starry sky.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this to me,” Tim says.

Jason throws his arm around Tim’s shoulder and drags Tim close. He ruffles Tim’s hair and Tim tries to wriggle out of his grasp, but Jason is holding on too tightly.

“I just want to spend some quality time with my favorite Bat! You're going to love Yellowstone, Timmy. Imagine how pissed Damian is going to be when we send him some pictures of bison.”

Jason lets Tim go and pushes him toward the car.

Jason gets behind the wheel of the truck and takes them back down the dirt path to the the country road. Tim crosses his arms over his chest and mutters mutinously when Jason turns right instead of left, driving away and not toward Gotham.

But even though he could, Tim doesn’t put his foot down or call Kon for an emergency lift home. Jason is annoying, sure. He makes Tim listen to terrible music on the radio and thinks tricking Tim into looking at gross things is hilarious. He leaves Tim out of his master plan and buys him Hello Kitty sweatshirts instead of normal sweatshirts. He’s full of all sorts of irritating and inconvenient surprises, but if Tim’s being honest, sometimes he thinks Jason isn't so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Jason's lyrics for A Thousand Miles are from a remix called 100 Miles that you can watch on YouTube if you're so inclined.


End file.
